Meant To Be
by wyverna
Summary: After Katie's death, Freddy reflects on his faith and what it means to him. This fic really means a lot to me, as I put a lot of my own thoughts and ideas into it. {R&R}


Disclaimer: I don't own SoR.

Katie's gone.

Kicked the bucket, pushing up daisies, handing in the dinner pail. Whatever you want to call it, it means the same thing.

Dead.

She's dead.

Dead and buried.

He'd gone to her funeral, and it had meant more to him than it had to anyone else.

Zack, Lawrence, Summer, Dewey, Marta, Michelle, Eleni, Gordon, Leonard, Frankie, Marco, Tomika, Alicia...

They'd all gone, and they'd all come back. They mourned, grieved for a while, then accepted her death, put it behind them and moved on. They didn't see... For him, it was different. Oh yes, they knew that, but they thought it was because he loved her.

He did, of course he did, but it wasn't just that.

When he was little, he'd always hated going to church. He had to sit there for about an hour, being quiet and not moving at all. It was the only time he could manage it, but he didn't like it. He didn't know why he had to be so quiet, he just accepted it. It seemed to him to be just a thing peole did when they went to church. He didn't even know why people went to church, all he knew was that it was something to do with God, God and Jesus.

When he grew older, they found out he had Attention Deficit Disorder. ADD. His mom and dad said he didn't have to go to church now if he didn't want to. They sat him down, and explained all about church, about how it was God's home, and how you went there just one hour a week, just one out of fifty-two, and all it was, all you did was say sorry to God for anything bad you might have done, and you asked Him to help you be better, and you said thank you for anything good that had happened, and for your family and friends.

They then explained about his ADD, and explained his Ritalin. They asked him if he still wanted to go to church. If he did, then it was time to make his First Holy Communion. Did he want to do that?

He _did_ want to do that, and he wasn't sure why. He guessed that he'd always known that there was a God, there had to be. He'd looked up at the stars at night, and known that there must be someone out there.

So Freddy Jones, class-clown, ADD guy and all-round bad boy made his First Holy Communion in May '99, age seven and a half.

He surprised himself. He surprised his parents. He would have surprised his friends, if he'd had any. He was reflecting upon that on the way home. His mom and dad had told him he could invite his friends round, if he wanted, and he'd said he didn't want to today. Lies, all lies. That was when he had to admit to himself – he didn't have any. No, none at all.

That's what you get for being class clown.

That's what you get for being ADD guy.

That's what you get for being an all-round bad boy.

So Freddy Jones, age seven and a half, made a secret promise to himself. For a week he would be himself, totally and utterly himself, and see if anyone liked him.

So the week passed by. No-one knew him. He was kind, he was generous and he was sensitive. He was totally and utterly himself. And at the end of the week, he had everyone in the class as his friend. His secret motto was _What would Jesus do?_ But no-one knew, no-one at all. He carried on being himself, and life passed on by,

Until one day, when Freddy Jones, now aged ten, moved up a grade. The first day there, someone made fun of the cross and chain around his neck. Why are you wearing a girl's necklace, they said, why are you wearing a Jesus cross? He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. You don't like stuff like that, do you, they asked him, you think it's sissy, don't you?

He had to make a choice. Admit his faith, and live out his school years being bullied, or deny it, and be a 'cool' kid.

He ripped the chain from around his neck. Freddy Jones, class-clown, ADD guy and all-round bad boy was back.

Horace Green Prep was not a Catholic school, and Freddy Jones was no longer a Catholic school boy.

Months passed. His grades went down. His performance went down. His gold stars went down. His demerits went up.

His parents didn't know what had happened. Gone was their cute little fluffy haired angel, who went to church every Sunday and was an altar-server.

In his place was a hard-faced gelled down haired demon, who sometimes skipped school, and who nearly set fire to the church.

Everyone seemed to find it amusing. It's the terrible tens, they said. It's a nightmare, Mr and Mrs Jones replied.

So life went on. On and on and on. Then Dewey came. He taught the class rock 'n' roll, but to Freddy he taught more than that. He taught him that you didn't have to be mean to be cool. You didn't have to deny your faith. You didn't have to insult people. He taught him that you didn't have to be an altar-server to believe in God. You didn't have to be perfect all the time. You didn't have to brag about it.

Freddy Jones, age ten and a half, had a revelation.

Again, his parents were at a complete loss. Gone was their cute little fluffy haired angel, who went to church every Sunday and was an altar-server.

Gone was their hard-faced gelled down haired demon, who sometimes skipped school, and who nearly set fire to the church.

In his place was a cute little spiky haired average kid, who went to church every Sunday, but still accidentally nearly set fire to it once.

Freddy had learned how to balance himself, how not to go to extremes but to be comfortable with himself. That was the best lesson Dewey ever taught. A mixture of his newly awakened faith and his talent for playing the drums helped him to calm himself. Sure, he still had ADD, but every week, after getting out most of his energy by banging hard on the drums, he went to church. Where before sitting still for so long had made him jumpy and excitable, it now calmed him down. However hyper he was with his friends, in his eyes they could still see _him_.

They knew why, and to them it was no big deal. It was just a part of Freddy; he played the drums, he had an obsession with fire, he went to church.

Just a part of Freddy.

All his life was centered around God. When he was feeling sad, he turned to God. When he was feeling happy, he thanked God. When he was feeling angry, he turned to God.

When he'd just messed up an easy song that he couldn't get the hang of, he stopped practicing, and when it was time to say his prayers, it calmed him down, and he had another go. Maybe he didn't get it first time, maybe he did. But whether he did, or whether he didn't he still felt happier about it.

When he was working up the courage to ask Katie out for the first time, he just said a silent prayer, and went up to her.

When Katie said yes, after jumping around with a big grin on his face, much to the amusement of Katie, and he was in bed alone at night, he thanked God.

When they were both twenty years old they had a discussion about God.

How can there be a God, Katie wanted to know, when there are so many bad things going on in the world?

Because He gave us free will, Freddy replied. He let us make our own choices, and if those involve doing bad things, then as much as it saddens Him, He has to let us do them.

But why? Katie cried. Why does so much have to go wrong? Why can't He stop it?

Because He doesn't want to control us, Katie. He wants us to make the right decisions and learn from our mistakes.

I just don't understand why people have to die!

Neither do I, Katie. But look at it this way. When people die, they go to the best place possible. They go to Heaven.

She'd leaned into him, and he'd put his arm around her, and she'd looked up to him.

What's Heaven like? She asked, like she was a little kid. What do you do there?

No-one knows, Katie, he'd replied. But what we _do_ know is that there is no sadness, and no confusion, and no anger. Instead there is happiness, only happiness.

But don't you miss your family?

No. Because there is no room for that, because you're so happy. You're there, with God, who loves us so much, every one of us.

How do you know that, Freddy? How do you know that's true?

God gave up His only son for us. For _our_ sake, His only child died in one of the most horrific ways possible.

She'd looked up at him then.

You really believe all this, don't you Freddy?

He'd nodded.

I do, Katie. I do.

She'd searched his face, looking for some trace, some falseness, but he was serious. Then all of a sudden he'd pulled her up, and into his arms. He'd taken her to church, and they'd sat in a pew together, just being with each other. They'd come home, and she'd told him that she believed, too. She'd asked if she could come with him every Sunday, and he'd told her of course she could.

He'd found out later that her brother had died that day. She'd come straight from the funeral to be with him.

Later that year he'd proposed to her, and she'd said yes. They had a church wedding, and it was the best day of his life.

Four years later, they'd never missed a week. Sometimes they had to adjust it, go in the evening instead of the morning perhaps, or on a Saturday instead of the Sunday. But either way, they'd made it in the end.

Four years later, Katie Marie Jones died, age twenty five. Frederick David Jones had nothing left in the world, except his faith. It was the one thing that could keep him happy, or the one thing that could destroy him.

He was sat in his car, thinking about his faith. How could God have taken Katie? She gave regularly to charity, she volunteered down at the local hospital, she went to church every Sunday. She did bad things, too, they had arguments, but she was nowhere near as bad as some people, people who were still alive.

He felt so confused, he did not know what to do. Was God still there, did he, Freddy Jones, still believe, still accept? Then he remembered a conversation Katie had with her parents on her wedding day.

They'd asked why she was a Catholic. She'd replied that this was what she believed, didn't they understand that? She'd asked why didn't they give it a try?

Her parents said they never could, because of her brother.

But it wasn't God's fault that he died, she argued.

We know that, they said. It was our fault that he died, and we know that God can never forgive us for that.

It wasn't your fault. It was no-one's fault. And God will forgive! God forgives all.

No, Katie. God can never forgive a death.

Yes, she insisted. If His son forgave the very people that killed him, just as he died, then of course He will forgive you for something that wasn't your fault! He's in Heaven now, the best place he can be.

You seem so sure of yourself. Don't you ever think it might not be true?

Of course I do. But questioning your faith only makes it stronger. My brother's happy now, and he always will be.

Don't you think he misses us?

He's too happy to miss us.

_Doesn't Katie miss me?_ Freddy thought. _No. She's too happy to miss me. And the only thing that could make her happier is if I get on with my life, and that's what I'm going to do. I love you, Katie. _He smiled up at the heavens. _Hey, God? Take good care of my Katie. She's the brightest star in your sky._

He drove off, not knowing what the future might hold. What ever it is, God's sent it on it's way. What ever it is, it's meant to be.


End file.
